


Recruited

by sour_lemonade



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy 7, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Implied Reno/Rude - Freeform, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Coercion, The Turks are bad but sexy, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28644387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sour_lemonade/pseuds/sour_lemonade
Summary: The Turks take an interest in the new waitress at Seventh Heaven.  Reno and Rude "recruit" her in the back of a limo.
Relationships: Reno/OC, Rude/OC
Comments: 14
Kudos: 29





	Recruited

**Author's Note:**

> This is very indulgent non/dubcon smut

It only took a week of working at 7th heaven before Mira realized she needed a shorter skirt if she wanted to earn any tips in Sector 7.

And now that she’s got it, showing off quite a lot of thigh above knee-high socks and below a short, pleated skirt, she’s starting to regret it.

It’s just past midnight and Mira is beginning to feel tired of this job she was so grateful for. Her feet hurt, her hands are sticky from dirty plates and glasses, and the customers are getting handsy. The bar is crowded, rowdy, and humming with voices that are starting to blur together into the beginning of a headache.

Mira hasn’t been groped. Not exactly. But everyone is getting quite friendly with her. Hands grasp her arms to get her attention and bodies passed close behind her, grazing against her ass on their way to and from the bar. It’s all starting to piss her off. And the crowd makes her anxious. It’s just too many people.

Tifa gives her a thoughtful look from behind the bar as she walks up to ask for two drafts. In the past month of working together, the two have begun to understand each other. Tifa is tough, fair, and inexhaustible. Mira is competent and reliable, but not friendly in the slightest. Oh sure, she is polite, and she smiles at everyone in an easy-going way. But, despite many overtures, Tifa still knows nothing more about her than she did on the first afternoon when Mira strolled in, looking for work.

Her name is Mira Genna. She is from Midgar and has lived in several sectors. She doesn't have a lot of experience waiting tables, but she can carry a tray and wash a glass, and, most importantly, she shows up on time.

That was her pitch to Tifa, who was happy to give the brunette a chance at Seventh Heaven. And it was still the full summary of everything she knew about Mira one month later. Tifa had stopped trying. Mira would dance around inquiries about herself, somehow managing to avoid responding at all or give some vague response. She wasn’t afraid to shut down a line of inquiry entirely. “Oh, I don’t want to talk about the past,” she’d say, softening it with a charming smile.

And it isn’t just Tifa. Mira blew off Jessie’s invitation for a movie night and shut down Biggs dinner invitation with a polite, “No thank you." Tifa had stifled her laugh behind her hand at his shocked face. He was too handsome, she thought. A little rejection probably did him good.

And so Tifa has accepted that Mira isn’t in sector seven to make friends, and that is fine. Tifa pays her in cash, says _thank you_ at the end of her shifts, and stops making friendly overtures.

But Tifa does know a few things about keeping Mira happy on the job. She sees the way Mira’s shoulders tense at the end of a long evening and the way her smile looks more like clenched teeth. So she bangs a shot glass down onto Mira’s tray next to the drafts and fills it with tequila.

“Who’s that for?” Mira asks.

“It’s for you,” Tifa says with a small smile. “I think you need it before you go back out there. Evening’s almost over,” she adds with a wink.

Mira throws it back before the bottle is back on the shelf. Warmth burns down her throat and she rolls her head from side to side, shifts her shoulders back, and turns back to the crowd with a slightly improved attitude. She slides a bar tray with the two beers onto her left hand, holds it above her head, and strikes towards a table tucked in the back, squeezing and turning and bumping her way through the crowd.

The tequila helps. She feels a bit more relaxed. Enough to make it through the evening until she can finally get back _to her own, quiet_ _apartment_ and wash off the day. She is halfway to her goal when suddenly a fingernail scrapes up the back of her thigh, tracing all the way up to the curve under her ass and giving her bare skin a sharp pinch. Mira whirls immediately to the table behind her, right hand out ready to slap the face of whatever barfly couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Someone catches her wrist smoothly, before she has even completed the turn and uses her momentum to pull her forward and down. She lands with a yelp on a hard thigh, her wrist held tight in one gloved hand while another snakes up her left arm to balance the tray wobbling over her head.

She turns over her shoulder to see exactly who has pulled her into their lap. She sees wild red hair and clear green eyes. A pretty face with a twisting smirk. A black suit with a white shirt, more unbuttoned than not. Mira knows exactly what sorts wear suits in dive bars under the plate and she stills immediately. All the fight in her evaporates

“Hey baby,” he says, grinning at her. “Don’t be mad, yo… My partner and I were just tryin’ to get some…” he pauses as he strokes his thumb on the inside of her wrist, “... service.”

Mira gapes at him and bites her lip to close her mouth. She knows better than to piss off off a Turk, but she also know better than to flirt with one. He looks at her with an eyebrow cocked as she wonders how long he intends to hold her like this.

“Uhh… what can I get for you?” She tries. Like it isn’t incredibly awkward to ask that from the man’s lap, looking over her shoulder.

“See anything you want, partner?” he asks the man across from him. Mira’s eyes dart to look. Same black suit, with a chiseled jaw and beautiful brown skin. Carefully groomed facial hair highlighting full lips. _Are the Turks recruiting for good looks these days?_

Suit number two opens his mouth to reply when suddenly Tifa appears and slams a bottle of whiskey down on the table, followed by two lowball glasses. Startled, Mira’s left hand jerks and the tray nearly comes falling down on their heads but the redhead holds it up himself, his leering smile growing wider.

“Your usual,” Tifa states tightly, gesturing at the bottle on the table. Her voice is strained, but not outright hostile. She looks from the redhead to his partner.

“Get back to work, Mira,” she finishes.

Mira realizes this was a rescue and Tifa is the cavalry. She wonders if Tifa vaulted over the bar like some SOLDIER to get her so quickly. Armed with whiskey.

The hand at her wrist opens and her arm falls limply to her thigh. The redhead walks two fingers up her spine and then gives her a gentle shove as she squirms away and back to her feet.

“Here ya go, doll,” he says, sliding the tray back onto her palm. “I guess we’ve been serviced,” he finishes with a wink. He immediately turns his hands to the whiskey bottle, spinning off the top and pouring a few fingers into each glass.

Mira is still gathering herself when Tifa catches her eye and jerks her head towards the table in the back. The message is clear. _Get the fuck away from these guys_.

Mire hustles away feeling irritated with herself. A smart girl gets away at the first opportunity.

She is already turning a very blind eye to the meetings that are happening downstairs after hours. Mira wants nothing more than to keep her nose clean and stay out of trouble. Especially the sort of trouble that might attract the attention of those two Turks.

***

Very unfortunately, the Turks are hard to avoid.

They come back again the next week and slip into a table at the back, almost hidden by the crowd at the dartboard. Mira doesn’t even notice they’re there until a finger slips into the waistband of her skirt and jerks her backward.

She barely keeps herself upright and spins to find that the two Turks back and settled, cigarettes nestled in their fingers. Their suits, black and well-tailored, are a message for anyone tempted to even look at them funny. _Don’t fuck with us._

“Hey gorgeous, we need some service over here,” the redhead says, eyes tracing from her sneakers up her body, as obvious as a touch. They don’t quite make it to her eyes.

Mira gulps and steps closer. “What can I get for you fellas?” she asks, trying to act like it’s any other table.

The redhead ignores her question entirely. “She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she Rude?” he asks his partner.

The black man turns his head to consider her, his eyes are covered by sunglasses but she can feel his gaze, slow and measured and not shy in the slightest. His eyes meet hers above his glasses and she feels her cheeks color. His lips curl.

“Very.”

The redhead turns back to her. “Ya know doll, I liked it better when you asked from my lap.” He turns slightly in his chair, creating enough space so that she could slide onto his thigh again.

Mira realizes that probably _should,_ given that he’s a Turk, but she’s frozen awkwardly again, afraid of doing the wrong thing.

“Reno,” his partner admonishes, but the redhead ignores him. His grin is all teeth, like a shark.

“C’mon baby, just a little cuddle?”

Her feet carry her closer. Her thighs slide her into his lap. He’s got all the power here so what’s the use in saying _No?_ Mira isn’t in the habit of upsetting powerful men.

His hands glide onto her hips and give her a little squeeze.

“Ask me again,” Reno says.

Mira clears her throat, body stiff in his lap. She can’t even tell if the partner—Rude—is looking at her. “What can I get for you?”

Reno shifts closer behind her and pulls down the collar of her button-down to smell the back of her neck.

His nose teases up her spine. “Sorry, what was that?” he asks slyly, hot breath making her shiver.

Staying as still as she can, Mira’s eyes follow Rude’s cigarette from the table to his lips as he takes a drag. His face is impassive but he’s clearly watching Reno tease her.

She opens her mouth to repeat herself but a deep voice cuts her off. “Two beers,” Rude tells her, and names the brand. “Go on.”

Seizing onto that permission, Mira slides back to her feet. “Okay.” She hustles off like a rabbit that slipped the snare.

They return the next week, and the following, usually late at night when the bar is rowdy and noisy and they can slip into the churn relatively unnoticed. They order drinks and Reno always finds a reason to touch her. A hand wrapping all the way around her wrist to pull her closer. A smooth palm over her ass as a thank you.

It’s even more startling when she pushes off the bar one night holding a pint glass and realizes Rude is standing directly behind her. A whole head taller and nothing but hard muscle. She turns around and tips her head up to see him. _We’ve gotta go. Thanks for the drinks._ He tucks a wad of gil straight into the front pocket of her apron and is gone before she’s done with a shaky exhale.

One night Reno asks Mira’s name. He repeats it to her, and then proceeds to never use it again.

***

It’s two in the morning when Tifa closes the bar and even later when Mira actually gets to leave. She still has to gather all those clinking glasses, wipe up the sticky tables, and turn up all the goddamn chairs. At least there wasn’t any vomit _in_ the bar tonight. And no visit from the Turks.

Mira is worn out, but getting used to these late nights. It’s late enough that the drunks have already wandered home. The air is cool, damp, and still. There’s no breeze in the slums of Midgar, and no moonlight or stars. But it’s still refreshing to step out of the bar, where the smell of old beer is like a fog in the air.

She’s relaxed as walks towards her apartment, which was only a few blocks away. The worst she’s had is some catcalling and it hasn’t gotten any worse as her skirts have gotten shorter. It’s black as pitch in some parts of the slums this time of night, but that almost makes her feel safer.

Mira pauses when something catches her eye—the burning red light of a cigarette, one block ahead on her side of the street. There’s someone leaning against the worn bricks of a long-closed laundromat. Smoking. She halts completely at the next inhale. The cigarette casts the faintest red glow on pale skin. Red hair.

The figure is like a ghost in the darkness. And then there’s a slight shift and Mira is certain he is looking at her. She’d swear she can see his sharp teeth.

He inhales one more time and then the cigarette butt is thrown to the ground and stamped out. And there’s nothing but darkness ahead of her.

Mira’s skin prickles with goosebumps. Reno is here in the darkness with her. One block ahead, but maybe moving closer. She can imagine him moving silently in the pitch black. Closing in on her.

Fear unlocks her movement. She turns at the corner without hesitation. Maintains her speed until he’s out of sight and then fucking _hustles_. She’s not running… it would be too loud. Boots on the ground, breath panting, but she is sure as shit hurrying away from that man.

She heads two blocks east of her usual path, but no further. There aren’t enough safe streets in the slums for her to have real options. She cuts through an alley back towards the direction of her apartment. She’s creeping now. Moving step by step around trash and dumpsters and some dude she hopes is only asleep. She shifts silently foot to foot towards the end of the alley. It’s slightly brighter on her street. Her apartment has got to be safer than the street. She just needs to get there.

Mira ghosts up to the corner breathing so shallowly she hopes she’s getting enough oxygen. She stands there for god knows how long. Forever. Listening to the street. One car passes in what feels like an hour. The street smells like smoke and exhaust and trash. She doesn’t hear so much as a whisper. Her heart is the loudest thing on this block.

She thinks she can make it. Straight across the street, twenty meters to the left, and she’s there. She can race up the stairs and lock the door and feel silly for overreacting.

Mira steps out purposefully, projecting every ounce of confidence she can muster. She’s a badass bitch. She’s a scrapper. Nobody’s gonna fuck with her.

Two steps and a hand snakes out and grabs her wrist. She’s snared like a rabbit and jerked around to see a familiar face smiling at her, eyes lit up like he’s surprised to see her after stalking her through the night.

She thinks he was standing around the corner from her this whole time. He got here first. And he waited silently the whole fucking time while she was screwing up her courage and giving herself the pep talk. He just waited silently and smoked. Asshole.

There’s a cigarette in his left hand and her wrist gripped in his right, and he’s just smiling with his head tilted to the side like they’re old friends.

“Funny stumbling across you here, doll,” he drawls. She can tell he likes to see her squirm. With one last drag, he drops the cigarette to the street and the last bit of light goes out. Lithe fingers slide against her abdomen, a palm presses over her belly button, pushing her backward until her shoulders hit the rough brick wall. The pressure is actually reassuring. Something to lean back on so she won’t fall down. She isn’t any more trapped than she was before.

Mira can’t see anything, but she knows his face well enough by now. It’s beautiful but cruel. She can easily conjure up the sly smirk that she always sees across the bar tables. Reno’s hand still holds her wrist and she hears his other hand land against the wall next to her face.

There’s only that one point of contact, but she can feel his breath coast by her face as he slowly leans in. He’s getting closer and he passes her cheek, the smoothness of his cheekbone grazing her hers. She still can’t see him but he’s closer and closer and the feeling almost makes her panic. She thinks about running. She thinks about screaming or trying to get a knee up between his legs. All she does is pant as quietly as she possibly can, as if she’s not even there. As if he might lose her in the darkness. As if she could turn into vapor and rise away.

The next exhale warms her ear. “I can tell you’re all wound up, yo. This stress ain’t good for ya. Don’t worry so much.” Mira senses heat as his body shifts closer.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, beautiful. Only in the good ways, at least.”

He releases her wrist, but she keeps her hand pressed flat against the wall as if it is holding her up. Mira can’t feel him, but the warmth makes it clear he’s still only inches away.

“So what is it that you want?” He purrs at her. She can’t compose herself to reply.

The next thing she knows, a soft, wet tongue presses into her skin at the base of her shirt collar and licks all the way up her neck in one smooth motion. Mira shudders and arches her head back. She isn’t sure if she’s trying to squirm away from him or expose more of her neck to him in submission.

He bites her ear lobe and chuckles when she finally makes a small, audible gasp and rolls against him slightly. “It’s ok. I gotcha,” he whispers into her ear.

A quiet engine hums from somewhere close by and suddenly the whole mood changes. A black car— a limo—coasts down the street towards them. Reno’s body uncoils like he was just waiting for the signal, lazy and luxurious to the last minute, but then immediately snapping to business. Reno ducks behind her and wraps his arms around her chest, pinning her arms to her torso. He strides towards the street purposefully carrying her along with him. Mira’s knees lock in fear as she realizes he’s taking her to the black car, but she barely slows their progress. He’s strong enough to lift her off the ground.

Her lungs fill as she takes a deep breath to call out and a hand immediately claps over her mouth. She thrashes around in his arms and manages to kick him in the knee with her heel and is rewarded with an irritated hiss.

His arms tighten around her so much she can barely breathe. It feels like her ribs are grating against each other. They are nearly at the car anyway, but Reno stops short. He holds her like this, pressed with her back against his chest, squeezing tighter and tighter until her gasping breaths seem totally inadequate. He keeps her this way for several heartbeats after she stills, realizing he could hold her this way until her breath finally stopped. After several more throbs, he speaks and his voice is tinted with anger.

“Listen, sweetheart. I am _tryin’_ to do ya a favor. We can do this hard, or we can do it easy… but we’re gonna end up in the same place. Don’t piss me off.”

The pressure around Mira’s chest releases marginally and she heaves in deep breaths as her lungs take in as much air as they can. She realizes that the driver has gotten out of the car. The headlights are off but she can see the front of the limo faintly in the blue lights of the dash.

It’s his partner, of course. Shades off in the darkness of the night, the tall, broad figure walks around to the passenger side of the car, approaching them. He’s not hurrying. He could be going to get his mail for the calm slope of shoulders and neutral expression. There’s something dark in his hands and without slowing to look at her, he rolls a dark, silky bag over her head in one smooth motion. Like he does this every day.

She hears a metallic *chrrrrk* and feels cold handcuffs slot quickly around the left wrist, and then the right, connecting her arms together in front of her body.

“Thanks, partner,” she hears Reno drawl.

“Any trouble?” rumbles the driver.

“Of course not,” comes the cocky reply. “and we _won’t_ have any.” His words are for her.

“Hmm…” comes the reply. “Then let’s move,” he says, and Mira hears the car door open.

She is expertly manhandled into the limo and, with a final shove, falls onto the carpeted floorboard. The door closes behind them with a muffled thump. Rude climbs into the front and puts the car in gear.

As the limo begins to ease forward, Mira is still on her hands and knees. She doesn’t know where she is going, or why, but this is clearly a dangerous situation. What would the Turks want with her? The hood lays on her shoulders and obscures her vision completely. She feels rough carpeting, she hears only her own breath, she sees nothing.

While she kneels waiting… taking stock of exactly how much trouble she is in, hands slip under her arms and haul her up onto a seat, her back pressed into a solid chest, hands sliding down her sides to reach her hips. It’s Reno, of course. He scoots her back between wide spread legs until her whole body is flush with his, ass nestled back against his crotch.

“So,” he begins in an entirely casual tone of voice. “There’s somethin’ the boss wants to talk to you about.” hands creep down from her hips and smooth slowly down over her short skirt and down onto bare thighs. “but first,” he continues, “we need you to understand a few things.” The hands have reached her knees and squeeze. Then they slip inwards. Fingertips begin to trace lightly up her inner thighs.

“Are you ready to pay attention?”

Mira’s body is completely still. His fingers pause for a second, like he’s waiting for her.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Good.“

The _snick_ of a switchblade startles Mira.. and she goes rigid with fear. Hasn’t she been compliant enough?

The point of the blade presses against her knee and draws a slow line of fire up her inner thigh. She can’t help but squirm away from the blade, pressing her legs wider against Reno’s, and rolling her hips back

“Oh baby,” he breathes, grinding back against her. “Make me work for it.”

Mira feels her cheeks burning and is, for a minute, grateful for the hood hiding her face. A flat hand runs along behind the knife, soothing away the sharp tingle. She realizes he hasn’t actually cut her. He’s teasing. Or threatening. Probably both.

The progress continues steadily, pushing up her skirt until the knife pauses at the sensitive curve where thigh meets softer parts. A finger traces a line from her hip bone, skating along the edge of her panties and then skipping under the fabric to pull it away from her skin.

The sound of blade on fabric makes her jump. There’s a sharp tug. The silky fabric sides away in an instant and Mira feels cool air on warm, private places. She yelps and presses her knees back together.

Reno’s chuckle is right behind her head. He doesn’t force her knees apart or slide a hand between her thighs, but he does pick up the pace.

His hands start moving faster. The one with the knife presses into a hip, keeping Mira steady as Reno begins to rock his pelvis in a slow rhythm behind her. She can feel him hardening against her lower back. The other hand races down her shirt buttons, tearing them open and yanking back the blouse to bare her chest.

Mira’s mind is racing, trying to decide what’s going to keep her safe. What does he want from her and how far will he really go to get it.

The knife is back and Mira thinks he may have cut her, sliding up between her breasts to tear through her bra. With another slice through each strap, the garment is pulled off.

Suddenly Mira’s existence is nothing but bare hands on bare skin and words that tumble out of Reno’s mouth. With each word and each touch, Mira feels like she is sinking deeper into the inky darkness.

“What a good girl.”

Palms press across Mira’s abdomen and fingertips sweep across the waist of her skirt.

“You’re just starved for touch, ain’tcha....”

A lick on the back of her neck and teeth nipping her vertebra.

“You feel how hard you’re making me?”

Fingers trace over her breasts, thrum over her nipples, and end with a pinch just so hard that Mira groans and knocks her head back where it lands on Reno’s shoulder.

“Mmmm… let me hear you, baby. “

Mira wonders if he is trying to shame her or he just can’t shut his mouth. But she can’t deny that this is doing something to her. And she knows that he will know the same… the second his fingers slide into the wetness between her legs.

In the darkness of the hood, Mira decides that the safest thing she can do is just stop thinking right now.

When Reno strokes gently over her nipples again, the soft touch tingling after the pain, she responds instinctively, moaning and parting her legs with a roll of her hips.

Reno dives into the opening provided. One hand presses to Mira’s throat, pinning her head back against his shoulder. The other plunges straight between her legs and he shoves two fingers into her. She is wet as fuck and it is humiliating.

Reno hisses with satisfaction as he fucks her with his fingers.

“You little slut.”

Mira can hear the tight smile in his voice.

“You’re gonna drip down onto the leather seats.”

Mira knows she doesn’t need to respond. She’s adrift in a deep black sea. He’s right, she is starved for touch. It’s been… a long fucking time. She’s too far gone to figure out if months or years is the right measure. The random blowjobs she gave to drunks in hopes she could clean up in their bathrooms after they passed out definitely didn’t count.

His fingers continue working her roughly. He probes deep, shoving the knuckles of his hand bruisingly into soft skin. Occasionally he takes a break to stroke up and down her labia, but he doesn’t touch her clit.

Mira is beginning to ache for it. Without conscious thought, she dips her hips a fraction, trying to coax him up to where she needs to be touched.

“Nuh uh…” he whispers, “you’re gonna have to wait.”

So she waits, enduring his hands and his hips and his dick pressing against her, but none of it provides relief. Reno’s got at least three fingers buried in Mira, and she’s doing nothing but making small, repeated whining sounds when she realizes that the limo slowed to a stop.

She hears a car door open and close. Then another opens—closer and someone climbs into the back of the limo. The partner. Reno keeps pumping into her like nothing has happened, ignoring when one of her still cuffed hands grabs onto his wrist with panic. She had forgotten about Rude—forgotten everything really. And now he’s _here_.

And she… she is completely exposed. Her mind is yanked out of the dark, safe space where thinking was unnecessary and she takes an inventory. Shirt was pulled wide open, she can feel air on her bare breasts. Skirt hiked up over parted legs. No, not just parted, _pressed_ wide against Reno’s. Not to mention his fingers still lazily dipping into her wet pussy. She is again glad for the hood covering her face. Mira couldn’t handle eyes on her like this.

“Hey partner,” comes Reno’s sly, cheerful voice. He loops his thumb under the chain connecting Mira’s wrists and lifts it up and behind her head. The metal links press against the back of Mira’s neck, and the cuffs force her elbows up above her head, opening her further, pushing her chest forward. Mira is silent. Barely breathing in the darkness.

“All ready for ya.” Reno draws his hands back from her crotch and wipes his slick fingers off on her thighs

Mira turns her head to the side in embarrassment. She wishes she couldn’t hear them.

She hears Rude climb across the limo to settle in the seat in front of them. Where she imagines has an even better view of her sprawled out like a ritual sacrifice. She nervously tilts her knees back together.

“Is she?” Rude’s deep voice questions?

“Well mostly. The lube’s still in the bag over there.. this isn’t really a good angle for that anyway…” he trails off a bit. “Besides,” he reaches down to shove Mira’s legs wide again, “I know ya like to do it yourself.”

“I see,” comes the calm reply. And Mira is sure he does… sees trembling legs and flushed skin and anxious shifting. She has no idea what they need lube for. She is embarrassingly wet.

There’s a rustle and the pop of a plastic cap. Then silence for two breaths.

The next sensation she feels is a warm, slippery finger circling farther down than the place Reno has been stroking.

She can’t help it. Her whole body jerks as the words are ripped out of her. “Oh _shit_!”

For a minute she twists and thrashes and instantly there are hands everywhere... first holding and containing, wrapping around her torso and pressing onto her thighs. Until she goes still. She relaxes. _No thinking,_ she tells herself. There is one way she’s getting out of this car, and it doesn’t involve fighting off the Turks.

Once she falls limply back against Reno, the panic in her seeping away, the hands switch modes. Comforting, soothing, stroking. Reno’s arms cross at her chest to massage her neck and shoulders.

“Shhh..” he says. She can feel his chest bouncing slightly with contained laughter. He’s amused with her reaction. “You’re gonna love it. Nobody fucks ass like Rude.”

Mira groans loudly. The two men shift her like a doll into a better position. Mira’s legs are lifted to rest on top of Reno’s with her knees bent over his thighs, her feet, still in those knee-high socks, are dangling down by his calves. When Reno spreads his legs, hers spread wider and she has never felt so exposed.

The fingers return… first circling, then probing with the tips. More lube is added and Mira’s ass is as wet as her cunt when the first one slides in. No matter how slippery everything is, it is a painfully tight fit.

Mira gasps and Rude doesn’t react other than to lay his unoccupied hand warm and large on her belly. The other continues twisting and pressing and pumping while she writhes on Reno’s lap. It goes on a long time before a second finger slides right in next to the first.

The tight stretch forces another whimper from her throat. She’s already so full. Mira’s cuffed hands scramble behind her neck and find Reno’s lapels. She grabs and clenches while tossing her head side to side. Reno exhales a chuckle but lets her hold his shirt.

“Hey partner,” rumbles the man with his fingers thrust into Mira’s ass.

“Hmm?”

“Change of plans.”

“Oh?” Reno had been stroking Mira’s breasts and sounds distracted.

“She’s too tight. She can’t take me.”

“Huh. Really?” Reno turns his head so his mouth presses to Mira’s ear through the fabric. “You tense, babe?” he asks. And then, “Tighter than me, partner?”

Rude huffs out a laugh. “Yes. I’d tear her up. I’m not sure she can take you.”

“That’s ‘cuz I have a massive dick,” Reno retorts. Rude just snorts in reply.

Reno turns his head back to Mira’s ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll make it good for our good girl,” he says. “I have an idea” He creeps his fingers down both sides of her body and past her hips, until he curls them into her skin and spreads her pussy wide open.

“Help her relax, partner.”

“That could work,” Rude rumbles. Mira shifts uncomfortably against Reno’s chest, feeling so dirty at being spread wide. She feels a wave of warm breath against her tender, exposed skin, and then Rude’s lips press against her clit.

 _He’s going down on her_. And of course, continuing to pump his very large fingers in and out of her.

Mira is back in the deep water and her whole body is moving with the waves Rude’s fingers create as his tongue circles and laps and strokes her clit. It feels _fucking amazing_. It’s the first time she has been touched there all night, and she’s mewling like a kitten now. When Rude adds the third finger she groans at the hot stretch and sinks right back into the waves of pleasure.

Rude is satisfied once his three fingers glide in and out of Mira easily. He isn’t happy about letting Reno take her ass, but the whole point of this exercise was to avoid blood and screaming. He curls his fingers one last time before slipping them out, and says, “All yours, partner.”

“Thank fucking Odin,” Reno replies, shifting restlessly beneath her body. “Been waiting forever.”

He scoots Mira forward on his lap where she sways dazed until Rude steadies her with a grip on her shoulders. Reno quickly undoes his pants and pulls out his dick, takes a minute to lube up, and then the two of them lift Mira up by the hips. Rude takes most of the weight as she flops forward onto his chest limp and compliant. Behind her, Reno rubs the head of his cock over her tight hole, eyes narrowed in anticipation of the pleasure ahead of him.

Rude eases Mira back onto Reno’s lap in slow motion, although it’s an awkward maneuver, fighting gravity to keep from going too fast. It’s not the gentlest way to do it, but they’re starting to run out of time and the options in the limo are limited. Besides, they’re not really here to be gentle.

“Fuuuck, yes,” Reno sighs, as the head of his cock slips past the first tight ring of muscle. He can’t control himself as his hips jerk upward in small motions to push further and further inside as Mira descends on his lap.

Mira knew what was coming, but the strange sliding, probing, pushing, stretching sensation leaves her shocked and still. It hurts to be stretched so wide and so deep, no matter how thoroughly Rude’s fingers fucked her first. She is full to the point of spilling over. Like something in her will break into pieces. Reno can barely move his hips under her weight, but even the subtle roll of his hips is unmanageable. Mira begins panting under the hood. Then gasping for air. She can’t take in anything—she’s too full to breathe. Her mouth tastes salty and she realizes there must be tears running down her cheeks. It’s too hot and in the darkness there is nothing to do but feel.

“Reno…” she gasps. “Please…”

Before she starts flying apart, Rude, who is paying a bit more attention since his dick isn’t involved yet, yanks the hood off her head and cool air rushes into her lungs. Mira perceives the light change through her eyelids, but doesn’t open her eyes… she still wants the darkness. She isn’t ready to process what her eyes might see.

At a word from his partner, Reno dredges up enough self-control to still completely. He speaks to her like she’s a skittish animal. A calm voice to ease her back into the flow.

“I can’t believe what a good girl you are,” he says stroking sweaty hair off her forehead. “You feel so tight stretching around my cock… it’s making me crazy to hear you moan for it.”

The words continue… praise tinged with obscene implications. They sink into her skin and warm her up—unclear if it’s shame or desire. However Mira feels, which she couldn’t possibly specify at this moment, he draws her attention away from the idea that he’s inside her ass. Eventually, her breath slows and then tension begins to drain out of her muscles. She lets his voice wash over her.

Reno’s hands shift back to her hips and he begins stirring underneath…. grinding into her. Moving in small circles. He groans and then continues. “There you go, sweetheart. Let me in deep.” He pushes and probes in very gentle motions as she adjusts and begins to open to him. As the pain fades away, Mira starts to feel arousal stir in her belly.

“I bet you want more.”

Mira hears another soft sound. A low, throaty noise, full of want. It reminds her that there’s another man here with her. She flutters open her eyes and it’s startling to see the world still here as she left it. Black seats. Black carpet. Dim street lights filtered through tinted windows. Enough light to see Rude kneeling between her knees with a front-row view of her debasement.

His pants are open and his thick cock curves up in front of his shirttail. He’s stroking himself slowly, working firm flesh as he watches her ass quiver and tighten on Reno. Amber eyes then slowly rise to meet hers. He is nearly expressionless as he takes in her parted lips and flushed cheeks.

“Watch.” He tells her, setting a palm high on parted thighs. She does, despite a desperate need to just close her eyes and return to darkness.

He rubs his cock up and down her pussy, getting the head wet and watching her face turn redder, mouth gaping open. He lets her know exactly what’s coming. Then he pushes into her, in one smooth stroke.

Mira’s head falls back with a loud cry. He wasn’t lying. He’s huge and he’s inside of her.

And he’s moving.

While Reno is hampered by her weight and tightness, Rude has free range to drive in and out of her. He thrusts and pulls, changes the set of his hips, makes her feel the whole length of him with each stroke. Maybe it’s the angle or his size, but he has to work for it to make his hips meet hers, even after he pushes her knees up and wide. He loops muscular arms around her folded legs and uses his strength to pull her hips close, pressing deeper with each slow, full thrust until he is satisfied, grinding her flush against his pelvis.

Reno is losing his mind as his cock is hugged even tighter within Mira’s body. “Ho-ly shit! Why haven’t we done this before?” He takes a second to pant a few breaths. “If you knew.. how tight.. this ass was, partner… you’d kill yourself for givin’ up the chance.”

Mira is losing her mind. She does it without words, but with grunts and moans. She is full and something has to give. It’s her throat which lets out all manner of raspy, pathetic sounds .. and eventually shouts as Rude picks up steam and starts really hammering her.

Reno is enjoying the way she comes undone. Gasps and gushes and churns her body against his. He’s letting Rude go to town and while it’s not his turn (although her quivering muscles and the indirect massage of Rude’s giant dick are certainly keeping him hard) he can lay it on a bit more.

“Love to hear ya screaming doll.” He starts. “Wanna hear you come.” He feels like this last step is important.

Mira shudders in his arms. She realizes what needy sounds are coming out of her mouth and tries to close her lips. It works for approximately three pounding thrusts until “Oh gods” rushes past her lips and she forgets the goal entirely.

“Good girl,” Reno whispers. “We got you. We can make it so, so good. Just like you like it, yeah? You gonna come for us?”

His hand slips back down and soft fingers ghost over her clit.

Mira moans and shakes her head even though all she wants is _more._ Reno doesn’t listen anyway. Fingers ghost again, on her and away, and Mira clenches so deeply in reaction that Reno and Rude groan in unison.

“Baby, I’ll give it to ya… real sweet. But you gotta do something for me.”

Rude slows down his pace so Mira can pay attention. Reno yanks her hair to bring her ear to his lips.

“Ask me nicely.”

Mira says nothing. Her mind turns over the command, trying to get the shape of it. He wants her to ask. For what. Would it _legitimize_ what they are doing to her? Mira can’t categorize it to begin with. Did she fight him? Encourage him? She can’t even remember now. But she wants the pleasure. Her breathing quivers, like the word is trying to escape her throat.

Reno’s fingers trace softly on her lower belly.

“Give it up, yo. I’ll make sure you come like a fucking hand grenade”

Fingers circle lower. Not low enough. Not where she needs it.

Mira makes a decision. Fuck it. What is left to lose at this point? She licks her lips and the word slips past her lips in a hoarse whisper. “Please.”

“Please who?”

“Please, Reno...”

His hand falls to her clit, working her body with rapid circles… frantic, intense touch that makes her scream it’s so good on her sensitive skin.

“Don’t stop,” He says. “You stop and I’ll stop.” His fingers smack her roughly in warning, stinging the sweet spot with a delicious sparking pain and she immediately sees the game.

“Oh god… Reno.”

Rude picks up the pace, thrusting faster. He grabs onto her hips and leans back so that he’s hitting something inside her that makes her vibrate like a cymbal. They are racing her towards the end and Mira is thrumming and ready.

She’s flexing and straining now, though held down at hips and waist. Legs spread and press to go wider. Hips tilt. Mira’s still-cuffed hands clench and grab behind her head. One finds Reno’s ponytail laying across his chest and pulls it hard. The other brushes against his soft lips, which part instantly to suck on her fingertips and lap at her with a warm tongue. That action draws the most earnest words yet.

“Oh _fuck…_ _Reno. Oh gods. Please more... Reno. Reno.”_

She comes like a grenade, just like he says. It’s an explosion made extra sweet by the pleasure of being held and contained by hands and arms and bodies and cocks and lips. Everywhere there’s something to push against but nothing budges and the strain in her muscles is bliss.

She’s quivering forever. Hazy. Dreamy. So sensitive. They’re not done, still inside her, but Reno is whispering to her.

“Amazing. You did so good, gorgeous. Showing us how much you wanted it. You’re a perfect fuck…. Right partner?”

Rude grunts in agreement… still pounding her thoroughly.

He pulls out, strokes his cock once, and shoots his load all over her pussy. The cum drips down her while he breathes deeply, head down. Then he leans forward and licks one nipple while he pinches the other. Mira gasps with wide eyes in surprise as he shocks her out of her hazy state.

“Good girl.” Rude finishes sitting back on his heels. Then he smacks Reno on the thigh and says “You’re up.”

“Thank the fucking _gods,”_ Reno says with vehemence. His voice is startlingly loud. “I’ve been waiting forever in this ass.”

He grabs the chain of the cuffs and tosses it back over Mira’s head. She gasps with the relief she didn’t even realize she needed as her shoulders relax, and sighs in a near boneless state.

Reno gives her a shove and she falls off the seat into Rude’s lap, like a limp rag. Awkwardly sprawling legs. Lolling head. Mouth wide with another gasp at the strange, empty feeling left when Reno’s cock slides out of her ass. Rude gathers her up like a broken toy. Hands firmly grasping her upper arms, he sets her on her knees and pulls her forward so that her forehead rests on his shoulder. He strokes her hair in an oddly soothing gesture.

Reno slides down to the floor behind her immediately. He gives no warning, just slips his cock right back into her ass and starts pumping away, holding on to her hips to keep her right where he wants her. He is frantic to finish.

“Mmm still so tight… even after you came all over our cocks.” It’s hardly uncomfortable after he’s been inside her for so long already, but it’s a lot of sensation and Mira grits her teeth unsure if it’s good or bad. Reno seems to delight in the first inch, taking breaks from deep thrusts to just tease the head of his cock past her first, tight ring of muscle… and then ease it out and watch her entrance clench. Over and over again.

“Ugh… you are really doing something to me, baby. Do you even know how sexy it is to watch you take me?” He’s spreading her cheeks wide to see better.

“God look at you gape open”

Mira groans her embarrassment against the skin at Rude’s neck. She’s hiding and searching for a distraction from the heat Reno is striking. His words make her shiver in a way that somehow arches her back and spreads her thighs further. Her body is betraying her... begging for more. It’s worse than calling out his name.

Rude’s large, warm hands rub her arms, shoulders, and neck while she twitches and whimpers. The combination of shame and comfort makes her eyes leak and more tears drip onto his shirt.

Satisfied with the dirty praise he’s lavished on Mira’s ass, Reno plunges back into her and chases his own release. He pounds into her... flesh slapping on flesh while Mira gasps out what might be pleasure.

Reno is close. “Come on my cock again baby.. Show me how much you love to have me stretch that tight little ass.”

Rude wants to see it. He releases one shoulder and finds Mira’s open mouth, slipping two fingers inside to wet them. Then he slides them down underneath her hips and strokes once, twice, three times gently along her clit. His touch is feather soft.

That’s all it takes. Mira comes with a choked sob and collapses in on herself, boneless. Rude catches her by her elbows before she can slip down his chest and holds her steady while Reno curses and grabs and pounds on her until, with a final, “Fuck yes,” he spends himself in her.

He’s too wound up to be still. In his final, slowing thrusts, he grabs Mira’s around her ribs and yanks her back to press against his chest. With a sound in his throat that is closer to a feral growl than anything else, he bites the curve of her neck hard enough to make her shake. Then he sighs in satisfaction, finally pulling himself out.

He eases Mira onto the floor where she curls onto her side, eyes closed, breathing so quietly she looks asleep. Reno lifts himself back up onto the seat and grins at his partner, still kneeling on the floor, pants open and dick out.

“Put that thing away, Rude. Don’t tempt me. You know Tseng is waiting.”

Rude chuckles and pulls out a handkerchief from his back pocket to start wiping himself down. Reno does the same and they carefully tuck themselves away, straighten shirt collars, buckle belts. Rude grabs his jacket off another seat and slides it over his shoulders, shrugging it into place. His black shirt hides the eye makeup Mira rubbed on his shoulder and collar. Within two minutes he looks entirely back to normal.

“Dammit partner,” Reno says, running his hands over his rumpled jacket and doing up a button near his waist. “Fresh as a fuckin’ daisy. You’re gonna make me look bad.”

Rude raises an eyebrow. “Your jacket was wrinkled when we got to the office this morning.”

“Tch.” comes the reply. “Priss.”

Deciding that he is as tidy as he’s gonna get in the back of a limo, Reno leans over and smacks Mira on the thigh.

“Up and at ‘em, sweetheart. We can’t make you late for your next appointment.”

Mira blinks slowly at them both and pushes herself upright. The thoughts sink through the protective haze in her mind. _Next appointment?_

Reno opens the limo door and climbs to his feet. He grabs Mira under the arm and half drags her out to the street. She scrambles to get her feet under her, but doesn’t have much success so Reno props her back against the car, holding her at arm’s distance. Rude climbs out and stands behind Reno, looking up and down the street.

“C’mon babe,” Reno winks at her. “I know we swept you off your feet but you gotta stand on your own now.”

Mira makes an effort. She’s still leaning against the car but her legs support her enough that Reno can let go and step back.

“Let’s take a look at you,” He says, looking at her critically in the harsh yellow of the streetlight.

Mira leans her head back on the car to watch him take in the sight. Her hair is a mess, tangled and snarled. Tear streaks ran her makeup in black and gray lines down her cheeks. Her shirt is open to the waist and a trickle of blood has dried between her breasts. Her skirt has fallen back down to cover her (although her panties are long gone), but cum is oozing down her legs.

“Perfect,” says Reno. He grabs the edges of her shirt and brings them together to cover her breasts, and buttons a single button, one of the few left after he ripped the blouse open.

“Now let’s talk business. I hope you were paying attention while class was in session. Tell me what you learned.”

Mira clears her throat. She coughs.

“I learned…” what had she learned? Her voice is half gone, rasps like cinderblocks sliding together.

“I learned that... you can do... anything you want to.”

“Good. That’s good. Knew you were a quick one. You got us exactly right. Now, what about you?”

 _About me?_ Mira doesn’t follow.

“What did you learn about you tonight?”

Mira’s mind is just starting to process words at a normal pace. Did she learn something about herself tonight? Something he would want to hear?

She stutters a few false starts before she understands. He knew something about her that she hadn’t realized about herself. Not really. Not clearly.

“I will let you,” she says slowly. Because she will. She won’t stop them. Mira isn’t a hero and she’s not a fighter. She’s a survivor.

“Mmmmmm.” Reno closes his eyes, satisfied. “Let’s go then.”

He offers her his arm like they’re on a date, and she hesitantly takes it because what else can she possibly do besides stumble along. They head into what looks like a warehouse, one Turk on each side of her.


End file.
